


The "No Smoking" Sign at Blue Lions Coffee & Tea

by Metallic_Sweet



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (playing around with courtly love in the vague 21st century), Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chatting & Messaging, Couple Hashtags, F/F, Families of Choice, Ferdibert Week 2019, Getting Together, Living Together, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mental Health Issues, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metallic_Sweet/pseuds/Metallic_Sweet
Summary: This is the story of how Hubert quit Black Eagles Inc., met Ferdinand, and started therapy in exactly that order.Alternatively, how through a series of unpredictable events Edelgard & Company was founded and Hubert found family.(Ferdibert Week 2019 Day 2: Domestic)
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Comments: 34
Kudos: 284
Collections: Ferdibert Ship Week 2019





	The "No Smoking" Sign at Blue Lions Coffee & Tea

**hvvestra (02:28):** @fvaegir are you awake

 **fvaegir (02:30):** yes  
**fvaegir (02:30):** what

 **hvvestra (02:30):** did we take out the trash

 **fvaegir (02:31):** trash pick up is two days from now but we did take out the recycling  
**fvaegir (02:31):** did you wake up at two thirty am to text me this  
**fvaegir (02:32):** in the business general channel 

**hvvestra (02:32):** ok thanks

 **fvaegir (02:32):** you can literally see me playing mobile games on my phone

 **hvvestra (02:33):** I didn’t want to disturb you

 **evhresvelg (06:07):** @hvvestra @fvaegir I am updating this channel’s sticky with a rule that this may not be used for messages that should be in DMs.  
**evhresvelg (06:07):** @everyone Done. Please read the updated sticky.  
**evhresvelg (06:07):** As this rule was not in effect last night, no warnings have been issued. 

**hvvestra (06:15):** ok

“‘No warnings have been issued’?” Ferdinand says after he gets back from his run and is throwing his socks and gym trousers on the laundry bin. “Passive-aggressive much?”

Hubert opens his right eye and rolls his head on the pillow to look at Ferdinand peeling off his shirt. “She’s the boss,” he mumbles, clearly half-asleep.

“Still passive-aggressive,” Ferdinand tsks as he pulls off his underwear. “I’m going to shower and then make breakfast. What do you want?”

Hubert’s eye blinks and then stays closed. “Espresso.”

“I’ll make you eggs,” Ferdinand says as he pushes open the bathroom door. “Easy over?”

Hubert opens his eye again and grunts. Ferdinand rolls his eyes and turns fully into the bathroom. Hubert can guess his entire routine. Ferdinand pulls his hair out of his face as he pulls open the shower curtain. Steps in and turns on the spray. It is as frigid as it always is, but he is not patient enough or willing to waste money to wait five minutes for it to warm up above freezing. 

By the time Hubert joins Ferdinand in the kitchen, breakfast is made. Easy over eggs on wheat toast for Hubert, sliced hard-boiled eggs on rye bread for Ferdinand. When Ferdinand turns with his tea and Hubert’s espresso from the counter, Hubert is seating himself, eyeing Ferdinand’s breakfast narrowly. 

“What?” Ferdinand asks as he sets down their cups and seats himself. 

“Where’s the bread from,” Hubert grunts, still rough from sleep. 

“Raphael’s,” Ferdinand says, reaching for the pepper. 

“Hm,” Hubert says, picking up his espresso and drinking it down. 

They have breakfast. Ferdinand scrolls through his social media as Hubert slowly becomes more aware. Once he has eaten his eggs and half his toast, he gets up and goes about pulling himself another espresso. 

“Ferdie,” he says as he rejoins the breakfast table, “did you see—ah.” 

Ferdinand glances up from Hilda and Marianne’s engagement pictures, grinning widely. “It was only a matter of time.” 

Hubert nods. Sits down. He sips his espresso as Ferdinand swipes through the album as he eats the last of his toast. 

“Do you think their parents will come?” 

“To the wedding?” Ferdinand asks, tongue darting out to clean nonexistent residue from his thumb. “Who knows? Holst will come, I’m sure. He’ll probably give a speech and cry, not necessarily in that order.”

Hubert grimaces, clearly imagining exactly that. Ferdinand grins before wiping his hand on the kitchen towel. 

“I need to go by the dry cleaner and the tailor,” he says, already starting to stand up, “but how about we go down to The Golden Deer around five? The Knights are playing the Elites, so I’m sure Hilda and Marianne will be there to watch the game.”

Hubert nods even as he grimaces and sets his empty cup down. “Claude is going to be insufferable.” 

“You say that every time,” Ferdinand says, looking down at his outfit and frowning. “Ugh. Why is this jumper pilling?”

“You’ve had it for three years,” Hubert points out as Ferdinand picks at one of the larger bobbles in the red knit despondently. “It’s one of the most used items in your wardrobe.” 

“I love this one,” Ferdinand pouts before dropping his hand and starting to pull it off. “But maybe it’s time to give it new life. You should make it into a beanie for me.” 

Hubert accepts the jumper. Ferdinand rearranges his hair, threading his fingers through it to prevent tangles. He stands for a moment, frowning at the ends of his hair between his fingers. Hubert folds the jumper, eyeing the holes in the arms and ragged hem but not commenting further. 

“If you’re going to pick up hair oil,” Hubert says, which makes Ferdinand glance at him with a raised eyebrow, “could you also get nail polish remover?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ferdinand says, dropping his hair and moving towards the door. “I’ll see you in a bit. Water the plants?” 

Hubert nods. He doesn’t point out that he never waters the plants. Ferdinand doesn’t point out that the plants have probably already been rescued by their downstairs neighbours Dorothea and Edelgard. It isn’t so much that Edelgard is any better than them at taking care of plants, but Dorothea is something akin to a genius regarding them. There have been a lot less deceased potted plants and herbs added to the compost in the last year.

“Ferdie.” 

He stops, tilting his head back through the kitchen door. Hubert stares at him for a moment. Ferdinand’s hair is still wet. Eyes slightly shadowed. His roll neck is only half tucked into his trousers. 

Hubert wants to kiss him.

“Text me if you pick up the nail polish remover,” he says. 

Ferdinand smiles, a little amused. “Sure,” he says before turning to get his extra jumper from their bedroom.

Hubert sits at the kitchen table. Shakes his head at himself as Ferdinand opens and closes the front door.

He should have just kissed him.

**darnault (10:23):** OK this channel is for the MariHil wedding planning! So this isn’t like Dimitri and Dedue’s wedding where they end up with five stand mixers

 **evhresvelg (10:24):** I am going to get them a year subscription to a couple of crafting boxes

 **cvriegan (10:29):** thanks for adding me!  
**cvriegan (10:29):** I think I’m hosting their wedding?  
**cvriegan (10:29):** idk they gotta ask me lol  
**cvriegan (10:30):** do they have an official hashtag yet?

 **darnault (10:31):** I don’t know if they’ll have a hashtag. Mari hates that kind of stuff

 **cvriegan (10:31):** De&Di had a hashtag, and they hate that stuff

 **darnault (10:32):** They let Sylvain and Annette plan their wedding. OFC they ended up with a hashtag

 **darnault (10:34):** @hvvestra @fvaegir do they have a hashtag?

 **hvvestra (10:36):** Ferdinand is out running errands  
**hvvestra (10:37):** I think we are going to The Golden Deer tonight  
**hvvestra (10:37):** he said they would be there  
**hvvestra (10:37):** for a game

 **cvriegan (10:37):** YEAH THEY ARE  
**cvriegan (10:37):** YOU BETTER COME

 **hvvestra (10:39):** for gifts, I am sure Ferdinand has something in mind for Dorte  
**hvvestra (10:39):** I could talk to Edmund Senior about what he needs to help him get to the wedding  
**hvvestra (10:40):** he did send a gift to Dimitri and Dedue’s wedding  
**hvvestra (10:40):** and he did write that recent piece about the long-term economic impact of Black Eagles’ collapse

 **cvriegan (10:41):** omg

 **darnault (10:42):** Hubie wtf  
**darnault (10:43):** how are we supposed to top that  
**darnault (10:43):** you absolute asshole

The first time they met: 

Hubert was three hours past a major deadline and convinced not even Edelgard would be able to save him from being fired from Black Eagles Incorporated. He stepped out of the main office without scanning his badge and walked two blocks to the first non-Starbucks coffee shop. It was nine in the morning on a Wednesday. The pub at the corner by his flat was not open for another hour. 

The coffee shop did not give him the best impression. The sign was in a cheerful, imitation chaulk script, proclaiming it _Blue Lions Coffee & Teas_ It was moderately crowded with what looked like a mixture of graduate students and teleworkers. It was only after he got in line behind a redhead whispering about a ghost hunting show with a faintly terrified platinum blond that Hubert noticed that there was a _no smoking_ sign next to the menu. He grimaced and put his cigarette box and lighter away. 

“Hey,” the barista, who wore a medical eyepatch, said when Hubert got up to the counter, “if you want to smoke, you can go out around back.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Hubert said, even though it wasn’t. “Could I get a triple espresso and a drip coffee.”

To the man’s credit, all he did was blink. “Do you want me to put the espresso in the coffee.” 

Hubert, feeling increasingly unhinged but in that particular way he recognised after years of gradually being shocked he had sanity left to lose, nodded. The barista pointed again at the back door. 

“I’ll put it in a mug and bring it out to you,” he said, flat and seemingly unfriendly even though his actions indicated the contrary. 

Hubert nodded. He didn’t say anything because he honestly felt at a loss, throw off kilter by this oddly humane treatment. He crossed around the side of the bar, registering nothing as he pushed open the door. 

It was a dingy alley next to the bins and what looked like the remains of someone sleeping rough. Hubert, in his pressed suit and shining leather shoes, took his cigarette case and light out. It took him a couple of tries to open the case, and he had to be very careful that his shaking hands did not fumble and drop the contents all over the ground. He placed the cigarette between his lips, flipping open the lighter and getting it going with four tries. 

He’d left his phone on his desk. He wondered when Edelgard would come looking for him and if she’d be able to pull the security footage soon enough to find him here. He hopes not. She’d been trying to get him to quit smoking for the last four years and had for the past year been under the impression that the campaign was successful. 

He was halfway through with his cigarette when the black door opened. Hubert turned. 

He was not sure what he expected, but he didn’t expect someone who looked like a professional tennis player with red-orange hair and dressed in a red jumper to be holding out a mug of coffee that smelled so strong he could smell it through his cigarette. The vision blinked at him as Hubert simply stood on the back step next to the bins and rags. 

Hubert is not the type of person who gauwks.

There is a first time for everything.

“What?” the man asked, eyes darting back and forth faintly in growing awkwardness. “Is this your coffee or not?” 

“Oh,” Hubert said, very weakly; he reached out with his free hand to take the mug. “Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” came the response as Hubert closed his hand around the ceramic; it is almost too hot. “Careful there!”

Hubert placed his cigarette back between his lips quickly to grab the mug’s handle and relieve his hand. The maybe-tennis player, maybe-off-duty model, maybe-hallucination hovered, somewhere between baffled and concerned. Both are legitimate reactions to whatever Hubert looked like. Hubert takes his cigarette out of his mouth and blows the smoke away from them, feeling blankly horrified with himself.

“Are you,” an awkward flapping of the man’s hands drew Hubert’s attention back to find him being studied worriedly, “alright?” 

Hubert stood for a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say. He felt increasingly unhinged as the logical part of his brain made an unusual agreement with his neglected emotional side regarding the vision before him. 

“I think,” Hubert said, completely in tune with himself for the first time in years, “I just quit my job.” 

Edelgard & Company was founded just over three months from Hubert quitting Black Eagles Inc., meeting Ferdinand, and starting therapy. Hubert quitting in that extreme depressive fugue state directly correlated with Edelgard whistleblowing to the major local paper the financial misdeeds of upper management. Meeting Ferdinand, who turned out to be a part-time graduate student at Garreg Mach University and a professional water polo player, did not correlate immediately until Hubert learned that:

“You’re our CFO’s son?” Hubert asked, completely floored when Ferdinand introduced himself to Edelgard and Linhardt at Caspar’s _Congratulations On Your Retirement From Being a Fulltime Asshole, Hubert!_ party. 

“I’m sorry about my father,” Ferdinand said, still smiling but also looking as if he expected to be stabbed and set on fire. “Should I leave?” 

“No,” Linhardt said because Caspar was extraordinarily proud of his first time hosting a party; Hubert could see him overfilling the beer pong table; he wished Caspar never discovered American media or pastimes. “Everyone is going to have a great time. Thank you for the…” 

“Oh!” Ferdinand said, holding out the cooler he’d brought and brightening back to his shining, incredible self. “These are baked canapés from Dedue! He’s Dimitri’s boyfriend. A _maz_ ing baker!”

“Dimitri, the barista at Blue Lions?” Hubert said, sensing suddenly that his inner descriptions of Ferdinand might be a bit over the top. 

“Wait,” Edelgard said, narrowing her eyes as Linhardt accepted the cooler and grunted in surprise at the weight. “What’s Dimitri’s last name?”

Ferdinand, stepping into the threshold, blinked, cocking his head slightly as he unwound his very flattering white scarf. “Blaiddyd?”

“Wait. Of Fhirdiad Aerospace?” Hubert said, maybe a bit too loudly because Dimitri looked nearly nothing like the single existent photo of the Blaiddyd heir after the well-known factory explosion over a decade ago; he also was the one who gave Hubert the recommendation for his therapist. “I thought they’d sent the heir to St Andrews.” 

“They did,” Ferdinand says, hanging his scarf up on the massive pile accumulating on Caspar’s coat and hat rack. “We went to undergrad together.” 

“Oh my God,” Edelgard said, looking as if she didn’t know if she wanted to punch Ferdinand or Hubert out first. 

It turned out that Dimitri had financed Blue Lions as a personal joy project as he began to take over duties from his uncle Rufus in Faerghus Aerospace. Dedue and Marianne, the latter of whom turned out to be the Edmund heir, jointly owned the shop. Hubert, learning all of this only a week into the prescription from his therapist and even more aware of his attraction to Ferdinand due to the slight lift the medication gave to his perpetual depressive haze, felt vaguely horrified.

“I should have noticed,” he said after unsuccessfully trying to look up whether or not he could drink the wine Dorothea had brought over while taking his medication on his phone. 

“Noticed what?” Ferdinand asked as he took off his red knit jumper in the increasingly warm flat. 

He was wearing a dashing white roll neck. It fit him almost skin tight down to where it was tucked in at his waist. There was a short but noticeable beat before Hubert could respond. 

“That Dimitri…” Hubert started before trailing off after realising that there was no way he could have made any of the connections he had just been kicking himself about not realising. “He pulls a good espresso.” 

“That’s about all he’s good at making,” Ferdinand says with a laugh. “He once set a toaster on fire by putting a cheese slice in it. He wasn’t even drunk; he just lacks common sense.” 

As time went by, Hubert discovered this was a very accurate way to describe Dimitri. Edelgard & Co. started off in the flames of Black Eagles Inc. with a great deal of coffee, tea, and food ordered at Blue Lions. Dimitri pulled a consistently excellent espresso and kept Blue Lions’ books, but Hubert did witness Dedue and Marianne rescuing food orders from him. It turned out that Edelgard and Dimitri were equally hopeless at cooking, which privately terrified Hubert who had often had anxiety dreams of Edelgard burning their shared building down making microwave oatmeal.

By the time Ferdinand and Hubert officially moved in together a year later when Ferdinand’s lease was up, Hubert had managed to quit smoking and no longer needed to see his therapist more than once a week. Edelgard and Linhardt would probably be embroiled in the ongoing legal drama of the government versus Black Eagles Inc. for years to come, but Hubert had been able to provide a written statement and then had been mostly left alone. His father had written him out of the will, but Hubert also had a restraining order against him, so this had been expected.

Ferdinand had been slower to take a restraining order out on his father. He had, in fact, been living with Hubert unofficially for about five months before his lease was up. They let people assume it was part of dating, but it was also because Ferdinand was increasingly worried that his father would show up unannounced and attempt to extort him. This has past precedence. 

“You can tell him ‘no’ but that doesn’t mean he’ll hear it,” Ferdinand babbled as he organised his hair care products next to Hubert’s nail polish collection. “I mean, I’ve been telling him ‘no’ since, I dunno, a long time! But you can’t change someone like him. Why do you have five bottles of black nail polish? Do you need—No, no, nevermind…”

“Have you thought about seeing a therapist?” Hubert asked after a short, awkward silence.

“Me?” Ferdinand asked needlessly because no one else was in the flat before bursting into a short, humourless laugh. “Oh, we’ll get to that some day, I suppose! Not now. Quite a lot going on at the moment, isn’t there? But! If I ever disappear, just GPS my phone location. Father wouldn’t know to take it off me before dumping my body! He’s hopeless. At technology. At a lot of things! Total shit, huh.” 

“Ferdie,” Hubert sighed. 

Hubert counted himself oddly lucky that he had no feelings of familial responsibility. It seemed horribly troublesome, especially as Hubert found himself watching the new circle of friends that rose from the ashes of his previous life. Dealing with Dimitri’s eventual departure from the day to day running of Blue Lions to take over as CEO of Fhirdiad Aerospace and then becoming more involved with Claude, a Blue Lions regular who decided to open a pub called The Golden Deer, gave Hubert a sense of responsibility with people which he wanted to be involved. 

It was different. The opposite of the life he had lived simply to make sure that Edelgard did not go up in flames for Black Eagles Inc. She was, of course, still like the little sister he never had, but she had Dorothea and all of their other friends. He had their friends and Ferdinand, who was still the most radiant person he had ever encountered. If Ferdinand had not appeared when he had with his outgoing personality and slightly mangled but ultimately optimistic outlook on life, Hubert isn’t sure any of this could have happened.

They aren’t perfect. Ferdinand is an exercise and health nut that is both to his benefit and detriment depending on his stress levels. He has default skinflint tendencies stemming from growing up around his father’s problem gambling. Hubert and Ferdinand regularly argue about sleeping schedules. Ferdinand is of the opinion that Hubert could do with more out of doors activities, and Hubert worries constantly that Ferdinand will one day get tossed from a horse playing polo with Lorenz, Marianne, and Leonie or hit by a car while jogging. 

But that is a relationship. That is life. They go to the farmer’s market nearly every Sunday. They buy potted plants that they nearly murder until Dorothea rescues them. Hubert has and wears far more clothes than Ferdinand, but Ferdinand likes to do the laundry. He hates doing the dishes, but Hubert finds washing up relaxing. Hubert’s hair health has improved by using Ferdinand’s plethora of products, and Ferdinand makes great use of Hubert’s many moisturisers and tinted sunblock. 

It is more than Hubert could ask. He, cautiously, would even say that having Ferdinand in his life has made him happy. 

Him, happy. 

The very notion never fails to bring a smile to his face. 

The Golden Deer is already rammed by the time Hubert and Ferdinand get there just past five in the evening. 

“Is this a major game?” Hubert asks as they squeeze through two groups around the standing tables near the door comprised entirely of people he does not recognise. 

“Oh my God, Hubie, _yes_ ,” Ferdinand grosses, rolling his eyes but smiling teasingly. “Do you just totally tune out when Felix talks nowadays?” 

“Yes,” Hubert says because he does. 

“What about Dimitri!” Ferdinand exclaims as they navigate past Raphael and Leonie who are chugging pints. “Or Caspar!”

“Dimitri and I don’t talk about sports,” Hubert says, wincing slightly as people shout about something on the screens. “Caspar and I don’t really have enough in common to talk about anything, including sports.” 

Ferdinand shakes his head before finally spotting Claude who is pulling a draft beer and slightly twisted around to talk to Hilda. He raises his free hand and tugs Hubert harder with the other, waving wildly. 

“HILDA!” he shouts to be heard over the crowd; he is very loud; Claude, Hilda, and a number of other people turn to look. “CONGRATULATIONS! WHERE IS MARIANNE!”

“THE TOILET!” Hilda screams back, motioning for them to come forward as Claude plonks down her beer. “Come sit here!” 

“THANK YOU!” Ferdinand shouts, even though he doesn’t need to anymore. 

“Hi, Hubie, Ferdie,” Claude says, picking up half-glass. “What’re you drinking tonight?” 

“Lemonade,” Hubert says, ears ringing slightly. 

“Gin and tonic,” Ferdinand says as Hilda shoves her engagement ring out for their inspection.

It is a beautiful setting. Hubert lets Ferdinand monopolise their side of the conversation regarding further specifics, accepting his lemonade from Claude. Marianne reappears with a slightly shell-shocked expression at the noise and density of the crowd as Claude hands Ferdinand his drink. 

“Congratulations,” Hubert says as Marianne squeezes in to sit as close to Hilda without being directly on her lap.

“Thank you,” Marianne murmurs, barely audible over the din. 

“Yes, congratulations!” Ferdinand says after sipping his drink.

They move over slightly then to not block the bar just as Hubert notices Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix arriving. 

Things become somewhat chaotic after that. Somewhere between Dimitri and Dedue’s arrival and the game getting to the third quarter, Hubert extracts himself along with Marianne and Linhardt to sit under the backdoor light. Marianne and Linhardt have to abandon their drinks as their part of the building is not covered by the liquor license, but Hubert is able to keep his second lemonade. 

“Spectator sport fans are insufferable,” Linhardt grumbles as he straightens his hair. 

“I’m glad everyone is having fun,” Marianne says, very diplomatic. 

Hubert eyes them both. Linhardt looks like he and Caspar probably argued about coming, since Linhardt absolutely despises this kind of atmosphere. Marianne has a small smile on her lips, looking down at her hand and how her engagement ring’s diamond winks in the lighting. 

She catches him looking. The smile doesn’t fade. To his surprise, it widens.

“What about you and Ferdinand?” she asks, which makes Hubert blink and Linhardt immediately look up from his sulk. “The two of you have been together for longer than me and Hilda.” 

Hubert pauses. It isn’t as if he couldn’t have predicted this type of question. The only members of their group that have been together longer than Ferdinand and him are Dimitri and Dedue, and they’re already married. To be fair, they had been bosom buddies for over a decade preceding.

“We’ve talked about it,” Hubert says because Ferdinand has brought up marriage a few times in the past several months in the vague hypothetical before laughing it off when Hubert didn’t quite know how to respond. “I know I have not been ready for most of the time. For various reasons.”

Linhardt blinks, head tilting slightly. Marianne’s smile becomes a little smaller but softer. 

“I’m glad you’ve talked about it,” she says, looking down at the ring again. “It is important to be on the same page.” 

“Yes,” Hubert says.

“But you said ‘most of the time’,” Linhardt points out.

Hubert nods. He brings his lemonade up to his lips. Sips it. Linhardt squints at him before Marianne puts her hand on his elbow. He blinks and looks to her with a raised eyebrow. 

“We should stop Caspar and Hilda from trying to pick fights for fun,” she says with her incredible soft diplomacy. “Hubert?”

“I should go keep Ferdinand warm,” Hubert says, which is a patent untrue statement as Ferdinand is probably one of the most warm-blooded people they know. 

Marianne smiles at him as Linhardt rolls his eyes. They turn to head back inside. 

For a moment as Marianne opens the door, Hubert stop. 

Breathes in. 

Overhead, the night is young. The cloud cover is light. It will be a cool night. Pleasant for walking home in. 

He wonders, thinking of Ferdinand’s admiration of the white gold of Marianne and Hilda’s engagement rings, how much they cost. He could probably buy a nice piece on installments. The problem will be making the purchase without Ferdinand noticing. He notices everything, especially regarding Hubert and money.

Or, he thinks as they enter and Ferdinand’s face automatically lights up as he spots Hubert coming back:

He could just ask.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to connect with me on [Twitter @Metallic_Sweet](https://twitter.com/Metallic_Sweet)!


End file.
